Note To Readers- Alright, first off I want to tell you that this is the last chapter, but the story isn't over. No at all. I'm going to be starting a third part. I want to 'skip' ahead a bit, and I really don't think it will flow well if I do it here. I haven't decided on a title yet; but I've got a few ideas. I'm hoping to get the first chapter of it up pretty quickly. -Alayna.
Mickey dropped all the broken objects he had been holding. He stared down at the shining object. He didn't want to touch it. He didn't want to look at it; but he couldn't look away.
He knew he had to pick it up. He had to, he couldn't leave it there. He couldn't leave it amongst the garbage.
He knelt down and slowly reached out at and touched it. He almost pulled his hand away; it felt like it had burned his skin.
As it lay in the palm of his hand, he released the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding in.
Why would Ian just throw it onto the floor? Why?
Mickey felt the tears forming in his eyes. He wasn't going to cry. He couldn't cry. It didn't mean anything. It was a pointless object. Why the fuck should he care that Ian had thrown it on the floor?
He shook his head and stood up. He slid the object into his pocket, he'd keep it safe. He'd keep it forever; if Ian didn't want it, he still did.
He finished cleaning the living room, he put the cushions back on the couch, flipped the coffee table back to it's original position.
He took the trash into the kitchen. He was surprised to find that it wasn't nearly as messy as the living room, just a few broken things on the floor and some spilled soda. He threw the broken stuff away and mopped the sticky mess up.
He was sweaty and hot when by the time he was finished cleaning.
He sighed and leaned against the counter.
Thoughts of the small expensive object in his pocket filled his mind.
He kept telling himself that it didn't matter, it didn't mean anything; but he didn't believe himself, not even a little bit.
He heard the bedroom door opening, he looked up saw Ian's bright hair, his wide smile and his stupid freckled face.
"What are you doing Mick?"
"What does it look like I'm doing Gallagher? I just cleaned this shit up, now I'm just standing here." Mickey tried to keep the bitterness from coming out with the words; he didn't succeed as well as he had hope he would.
Ian just nodded, grabbed a cup, filled it with water and headed back into the bedroom; nothing else was said.
Mickey wanted to hit something, or break something, or throw something but he didn't; he wasn't cleaning shit up again.
He pulled his cigarettes and lighter out of his pocket and lit one as he sat down at the table.
Inhaling the smoke hurt, it really fucking hurt; not because he needed to quite smoking but because he felt like he was choking on it. He was choking on the nicotine that he desperately needed to keep himself sane.
He lit a second cigarette off the first one. He laughed bitterly.
He needed to confront Ian about what was currently in his pocket, he just didn't know how to do it without upsetting Ian.
He put the second cigarette out in the ashtray.
He headed for the bedroom.
He pushed open to door slowly, Ian had cleaned the room up, and was laying silently on the bed, he wasn't asleep though. The red-head was staring up at the ceiling.
When Mickey entered the room Ian looked at him.
Ian looked tired, but otherwise he was fine. Mickey was glad he didn't look sad, or pissed off; he really didn't want to have to deal with Ian like that, not now.
"What 'cha doing?" Mickey wasn't just gonna jump right into it.
"Just laying here. Not much else to do."
Mickey nodded and sat next to him. He purposely began twisting his ring around his finger, hoping that Ian would notice.
"You wanna go watch a movie or something?" Ian sounded hopeful.
Mickey shook his head, and continued twisting; Ian still didn't notice.
Mickey wanted to shout at Ian, he wanted to yell at him for fucking throwing it on the floor; but he didn't.
"Can I ask ya something?" Mickey bit his tongue; stopping himself from saying something-dickish.
Ian nodded and smiled at him.
Mickey reached into his pocket and pulled the small, shiny, silver ring out.
Ian's eyes widened and his smile disappeared.
"Why the fuck was this on the floor in the living room, in a pile of broken glass and garbage?" He mentally slapped himself for cussing at Ian; he was trying to be nice and polite, it didn't work.
"I..I didn't..you..I was.." Ian was stuttering, and not making any sense. Mickey snorted.
"Ya know Gallagher, it doesn't even fucking matter, okay?"
"But it does. I was upset, you left and I..I didn't mean to throw it on the floor, but I..I just wanted to forget that fucked up." Mickey rolled his eyes. He tried to be nice; it wasn't working. He was upset and Ian's 'excuses' were only pissing him off. He knew Ian couldn't control what he'd done, but he still did it, and Mickey really didn't know how to react, so he acted like a dick, a defense mechanism.
"It doesn't fucking matter Gallagher. I'll just take mine off and put 'em away." Ian looked like he was gonna cry; Mickey felt bad about it, but fuck it-he wasn't gonna feel bad. It wasn't important in the first place, it meant nothing.
"But Mick.." Mickey cut him off.
"No. It's fine. Maybe, eventually I'll be able to get 'em back out. Until then, they're off." Mickey pulled the ring off his finger and walked to the closet, he grabbed his lock-box out of the back and shoved them inside.
"It's done." Mickey's voice nearly trembled as he spoke, his hands shook as he re-locked the box.
"You mean we're done?" He wasn't looking at the red-head but he could tell that the kid was crying.
Mickey shook his head; he didn't want to look at Ian.
"That's not what I said. I said it's done."
"What d..does that m..m..mean?"
"Putting them away is done, that's all." Mickey turned around, Ian's face was red and wet. Mickey walked to the bed, sat next to Ian, and pulled him into his arms.
"It's all gonna be okay kid."
Note to readers- Alright there's the end of this, next part will be up soon. Let me know what you thought. -Alayna
